


Duress

by JediMordsith



Series: Extenuating Circumstances [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fuck Or Die, Hurt/Comfort, Mara's ugly history as Emperor's Hand, PWP, Physical and emotional trauma, dubcon, dump Sheev down a reactor core 2019, kriff or die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-05 17:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18833593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JediMordsith/pseuds/JediMordsith
Summary: When Luke regains his memories of Mara saving his life, he holds his silence for her sake - until the tables turn, and she is the one who needs saving.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For evilmouse, who made quite clear that sooner was better than later for getting this written. : )
> 
> Chapter one bridges us from Exigency to here  
> Chapter two starts ugly before the fun begins. You've been warned.

Luke spread his palm over the curve of Mara’s hip. Her skin had been like silk, before. It was tacky, now – his fault. His sweat and spend smeared over her from thigh to ribs, where he’d held her against him between.

_Between what?_

He slid his splayed fingers up, over the delicate smattering of freckles scattered across the base of her spine. Those were new – he hadn’t dreamed of them before. He leaned, wanting to wrap his arm around her, pull her up and back against his chest. To mouth at the entrancing curve of her shoulder and tell her again how beautiful she was.

Confusion bubbled through him as instead he seemed to pull back from himself, his body ignoring his intent. He watched, disoriented, as the heel of his hand dug into Mara’s shoulder blade, pushing her down. His other hand closed her around her hip, positioned her with single-minded determination.

“Luke -.”

Her voice was muffled, her face pressed against the lounger cushions. Her hair spilled loose and wild, obscuring her face. This – this wasn’t right. He wouldn’t – this wasn’t how he wanted things between them. Her voice -.

His body never slowed. Both in and outside of himself, Luke felt it like a kick in the gut the when he thrust, burying himself in her wet heat. He pulled out immediately, thrusting again without hesitation or pause, rutting her mindlessly. She made noises beneath him and his heart clenched – he was hurting her. Was he? He didn’t know. He didn’t know, but his body wasn’t stopping – he couldn’t make it stop -.

“No!” Luke wrenched awake with a gasp, heart pounding. He sat up, drawing his knees to his chest and dragged a hand over his face. His cock throbbed, reminding him plaintively that he hadn’t finished the dream tonight.

_Tonight._ This made the fifth time - sixth? - that he’d wrenched awake from fevered dreams of Mara Jade. He’d been dreaming of her for years, but these were different. Visceral. Disturbing.  

They’d started after Taris. After the mission where he’d been drugged and blacked out. Mara had had his back. She’d found him – gotten him to safety, to medical care on Karrde’s ship. Luke grimaced and pushed himself out of bed with a sigh. The NRI bureaucrats were _still_ fussing about the lack of documentation.  

Padding to the kitchen, he poured a mug of milk – it still bothered him at odd times that it wasn’t blue here – and stuck it in the heating unit. He _trusted_ Mara. He’d thought the NRI did, too, by now. He’d already tried everything he could think of to convince them to just _drop_ it, but maybe… maybe there was something in his head, still. Buried, under the effect of the drug on his memory. Something he could find that would shut up the NRI. Something that would explain the dreams.

The heating unit beeped. Adding a generous portion of cocoa and stirring it in thoroughly, he walked purposefully into the small second bedroom that served as his office. Settling onto the meditation cushion Leia had gifted him, he cradled the mug in his hands, shut everything else out, and fell into himself.

* * *

 

The mug shattered on the wide wooden planks of his office floor.

“Oh, no.” Luke’s eyes, gritty from lack of sleep and effort, scraped open. His heart pounded in his chest and his stomach plummeted. “Oh, no.”

 

* * *

 

There were no words for the sheer, dizzying awkwardness of seeing Talon Karrde’s cool, collected expression on the holo-comm and being horrifically, mortifyingly aware that the last time they’d been in the same room, he’d been shamelessly groping the woman Karrde loved like a daughter _right in front of him_.

Especially since he hadn’t been trying to reach Karrde, at all. Steeling himself, Luke grasped at his composure and apologized. “Captain Karrde. I think I must have been misdirected – I was trying to reach Mara.”

What exactly he was going to say when he did, he still had no idea.

“Mara is not available,” Talon said, evenly. “She’s on a leave of sorts. Is there something I can assist you with?”

_Tell me if I hurt her. If she’s all right._ She’d pretended to be – they’d spoken twice since Taris, and – well, he’d thought the strain in her eyes was exhaustion. She always worked too hard. He hadn’t imagined…

“I need to speak to her.” He gestured. “I understand if you can’t tell me where she is, but – can you redirect me? Ask her to contact me?”

Mara was valuable. Precious. Karrde wouldn’t let her go far without keeping tabs if he could help it, leave or not, Luke was certain.  

Talon steepled his long, elegant fingers and his lips turned down. “If you’re calling on behalf of the being from NRI Administration -.”

His tone had dropped into low warning and Luke shook his head, hastily. “No – it’s – I’ll make that go away. I’ve already sent a comm to Iella Antilles about it. I – I just need to speak to Mara. Urgently.”

For a few long moments, he thought the smuggler would refuse. Finally, Karrde said, “She’s with Lando right now, using the name Karrinna. Calrissian’s comms remain operational. Master Skywalker, this may not be the best time to speak to her.”

“I understand. Thank you.”  
  


* * *

   
Under any other circumstances, Luke would have taken Karrde’s advice. It was rarely wrong and even more rarely offered free of charge, which meant he felt strongly to offer it now. But he had to see her. To look her in the eye – even if just by holo – and hear her tell him, truly, that things were okay between them. If it had just been the kriffing, he’d have waited. But he’d told her – _Force_.

He breathed, pulling on the Force for calm as he punched in Lando’s private comm code. He frowned at the projection when it auto-switched to text mode instead of of audio upon pick up.

_Hey, Luke._ The aurabesh popped up on the bottom of the projection, under Lando’s charming smile. The Baron was dressed in evening wear and apparently in a boisterous mood.

Luke managed a smile. “Lando. I’m sorry to bother you – I was told you have company. Karrinna?”

Calrissian’s smile softened. _I’d offer to let you talk to her, but she’s only just fallen asleep._ He cocked his head and the holo-cam swept around.

It took Luke a moment to recognize Mara when the cam focused on her. She lay on her side across the largest, most ornately dressed bed Luke had ever seen.  She’d dyed her hair a platinum shade of blonde and wore a long tunic that’s bright embroidered silk clearly marked it as Lando’s. It was the only thing she wore - a gown that had to be hers tossed over the back of chair just barely in frame.

A gown Lando had probably taken off of her.

_Everything okay?_

Lando’s words floating beneath the scene pulled Luke back, made him aware that his lungs burned. He’d stopped breathing.

“Yes,” he croaked. “Yes. I – tell her the NRI won’t bother her about the report anymore. She’ll understand. I just – I just wanted her to know.”

_Sure._ The view swung back to Lando’s cheerful grin, and Luke fumbled through an excuse to close the line.

That was why Karrde didn’t want him to comm. Mara was _on leave_ with Lando. She was happy.

Luke let out a long, slow, shaky breath. He’d forget again. Find a way to make himself do it. He could give her that, if nothing else. He’d kept his desires to himself this long. To keep her friendship, to give her the freedom and ease of love with Lando without fear of causing strife between them, he could keep his peace forever if he had to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there's the not-fun kind of dubcon here. Read at your own discretion.  
> (The fun stuff starts next chapter.)

_Three months later._

Third shift was the weak point.

Mara watched through half-shut eyes as the two guards – one human, one besalisk – swiped their sabacc cards off the stained plastisteel table and griped about their boredom. She risked a glance at the chrono behind them. Ten minutes till shift change. If the pattern held true, within an hour the human assigned to third shift would be propped against the far wall in an alcohol-induced stupor. _Cheap Chandian rum,_ she thought with disgust. The smell of it – even all the way over here in their cell - had make Leia vomit the second night, and the Counsellor didn’t exactly have a weak stomach.   

_Leia._ Mara slanted her gaze sideways. Organa lay curled in a ball on the filthy pile of ticking that passed for a pallet in their tiny cell. Her skin was bright with fever – something local, Mara guessed. Bad. They’d tried between them, initially, to coax her body into a shallow healing trance, but the Force was inexplicably thin here. Weak and ephemeral - enough that neither of them had been able to grasp enough of it to _do_ anything. The Princess mumbled again, the words fretful and jumbled. _Han_ and _Luke_ – the rest was thready and impossible to make out.

They were coming, Mara was sure. Probably at the front of a fully outfitted NR extraction team. The negotiation mission had been intentionally quiet – the team miniscule, with transport arranged through Karrde to keep it off NR records until after the fact. But when they failed to check in on time, investigations would have started. Mara let her eyes slide fully shut, ignoring the grit in them and the pulsing pain at her temple. She didn’t dare rub her eyes or face with as disgusting as she was – Force only knew what grime she’d grind in, what kind of infections she’d exacerbate.

Not for the first time since this mess began, she regretted that Karrde’s organization was so heavily invested in other sectors right now. He’d have come for her. Sent a team, well-equipped and merciless because _no one_ kidnapped his people without ruing it. But unforeseeable disruptions had left the organization stretched thin, and there was no one to send.

No one was coming. Not soon enough.

_You can get her out._ Mara’s stomach cramped against the vicious hiss inside her skull. _You could have gotten out days ago. You’re letting her suffer for your own selfish pride and comfort._

Slowly, so as not to draw attention, Mara turned her head. Felt the rough, meter-thick stone at her back scrape her spine and then her cheek as she stared at Leia’s shivering form.

Luke dreamed of her.

Dreamed of her in beautifully, unbelievably improbable ways. She’d cradled that precious knowledge to herself in the quiet dark of her bunk every night for weeks, turning it over like a gem and a puzzle. She couldn’t _do_ anything with it, the risk was far too high. But _possessing_ it had been a gift all its own.

The raw skin of her hands split anew at the knuckles as her fingers curled into fists. If she got them out and he learned how, he’d never dream of her again. But he’d never forgive her for letting his sister die, either.

Reaching out, she hesitantly pressed her hand to the other woman’s hair. The gouge along her side twinged, but didn’t start bleeding again. She’d never managed to figure out how to offer _comfort_ the way Luke did, but reassurance she could do. Now she pushed it as best she could into Organa, despite the wispiness of the Force around them. _It’s all right. I’ll take care of you._

* * *

 

Shift change was sloppy but done. The human was snoring drunkenly against the wall, his Weequay partner prowling irritably around the cellblock, his body viscerally fuming its displeasure at the unwanted shift and loathed companion. They said no one but another Weequay of the same clan could interpret the pheromones the species gave off as it’s primary form of communication, but body language and the Force suggested that this one was off-gassing the silent equivalent of an expletive-filled tirade.

She wasn’t going to get a better shot.

Her stomach clenched again and Mara made herself breathe through it. _Later,_ she told herself, sharply. She could count the cost later. When they were safe. _Focus._

Reaching inside herself, Mara cautiously opened mental doors she’d long barricaded shut. Walked the barren corridor to the vault she’d told herself she’d never access again. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up and her pulse kicked into high gear. She didn’t want to be here.

_You can’t let Organa die._ Self-loathing rose, bitter and cold. _You did this for him. Isn’t she more worthy? Isn’t Luke?_

She couldn’t think about Luke now. _Just like before,_ she coached herself, determinedly. _There is only now. Only the task, the mission. You’ll survive – you always survive. Stop stalling._

She reached for the door. Pressed her palm against it. It vanished, a hot rush pouring out, sweeping her out of her mind and back into her suddenly flushed body.

Raising her hand to her collar, Mara tugged a few fasteners loose.  Pushing unsteadily to her feet, she took three weaving steps toward the cell door. She could already feel heat pooling between her legs. The guard swiveled, glowering suspiciously at her.

“Hey.” Mara pressed herself against the thick bars, intentionally angling her body so that he got a clear and generous glimpse of skin. Human women were typically off-limits for Weequay, but that didn’t mean they didn’t like to look.

She pushed back the sick feeling in her gut and concentrated and slurring her words just the right amount. “Hey. My – friend needs food. She’s -,” Mara tipped her head against a bar as if staying upright was an enormous amount of work. Licked her dry lips and watched surreptitiously as the guard’s eyes followed the movement.  “She’s sick.”

“That’s no concern of mine,” he snapped, stalking a few steps closer. “You’re all _vermin_.”

“I’ll pay for it.” Mara spit the words out in a rush. Finesse would be wasted here – Weequay were not exactly the brightest colors in the galactic paint box. “I know – I – I’ve been incarcerated before. I know how it works.”

That earned her a head tilt and a squint. The guard sniffed, his eyes slitting. A nauseating leer slid over his pebbled face. “You want it,” he hissed.

Mara made herself smile back stupidly, lifting and dropping a shoulder in affected shamelessness. “Girl’s gotta have kinks, right?”

He barked a laugh, and then he was fumbling at his belt, ripping the code cylinder off it. Mara stumbled as he yanked the door open, her eyes darting behind as he dragged her out, one huge hand clamped around her arm. He’d wholly taken the bait – the cylinder still hung from the lock, the door left well ajar. Then she was off her feet.

She bit back a hiss as her shoulders slammed against the hard, flat surface of the table. Closed her eyes and curled her fingers around the edge of the table as he wrenched at her clothing. The drugs were careening through her system full force now, and his satisfied hum confirmed that she looked and smelled the part of an eager participant when his ridged facial frills scraped her thigh and he breathed her in. There was the sound of buckles being unsnapped, and the Weequay was talking – babbling crude, cruel things as his hands closed on her thighs.

Luke was never going to dream of her again.

* * *

   
Mara slid off the table to the ground, feigning boneless exhaustion at the Weequay’s feet. He chuckled above her, his hands flat on the table as he panted, the aftereffects of his exertion and climax still rippling through him. Oblivious. Unguarded.

She didn’t let herself think about the pain, the mess on her thighs, or the drugs still circulating in her system. There was only the vibroblade clipped to the guard’s belt, still looped through the pants pooled at his booted feet – inches from where she huddled. Curling her feet under her, Mara shifted her weight and took a breath.

Then she moved. A split second and it was over – the hilt in her hand, her legs thrusting her upward, the blade embedding itself in the base of the guard’s throat. She squeezed the button on the base of the hilt with a practiced flick of her thumb, shredding skin and muscle from jaw to shoulder. His eyes bulged and he flailed, but it was already over. His body hit the floor with a dusty thud.

Mara dropped into a crouch, efficiently stripping the corpse of comms and weapons. Pushing back to her feet, she pulled her own clothing back into place, strapping on the stolen bounty. A familiar, eerie sensation told her she was being watched, and her head jerked up.

Leia stood in the open cell door, one small hand clutching the bars to keep herself upright, bleary reddened eyes staring at her grimly. Mara turned away. She wouldn’t be judged for doing what it took to survive.

Walking to the still-snoring second guard, she evaluated her options. If she shot him, she’d almost certainly set off sensors. Fine. Stripping him of useful things as well, she grabbed him by his greasy hair and hauled him across the floor, humiliation, and fury giving her abused body unnatural strength. He was awake and screaming immediately, but unable to yet muster to an effective response before she threw him into the cell she’d rotted in for the last week. Yanking the code cylinder out of the lock and stuffing it in a pocket, she slid an arm around Leia’s torso, ignoring the screech of her injured side as she shouldered most of Organa’s modest weight.

“Time to go.”

* * *

   
Mara pressed her forehead to the cool metal wall of the tiny sani-steam in the _Falcon’s_ crew quarters and shivered despite the steam fogging the ‘fresher. Her skin was scarlet from the searing water pounding against her shoulders and the three scrubbings she’d given it, trying to wash off every trace of prison grime… and the feel of the guard’s hands.

Reaching out blindly, she shut the water off. Even that small move left her dizzy, and she cursed. The drugs – _hormones,_ she corrected herself, detached – had never stayed in her system this long. Never ramped up this high. It wasn’t safe.

But she’d never been intended to kriff non-humans. The conditioning hadn’t been designed to account for alien bodily fluids. And she’d never been able to shut it off herself. That had been the whole point.

Her entire body ached with the need to be kriffed. She was already wet again, despite the scrubbing. Another minute or two and her own fluids would be profuse enough to dampen her thighs again, mingle with the lingering water droplets. Another quarter hour and she’d probably be unconscious, her body unable to cope with the biochemical overload.

Mara slid down the wall, folding forward until her forehead rested on her knees. There wasn’t anyone here to ask, even if she could have made herself explain. There was only Solo and the wookie on board, and she didn’t kriff married men anymore. Not that he’d have been able to get it up in any case – she’d left Solo in the master cabin beside his wife, fanatically monitoring the IV in her hand and every drop of the customized med drip clearing her system. The Second Coming of the Corellian Hells wouldn’t tear him away.

“Mara?” Her name was muffled through the door, accompanied by three polite raps. “Are you all right?”

_Luke._ Her head spun as she lifted it, absurd relief and absolute terror shooting through her in tandem.

“Mara?” He sounded truly concerned, now. Of course, he did. The Force worked fine up here, and he was Skywalker. He’d have felt her lurch.

She had long since lost the ability to cry, but her eyes stung and she dug the heels of her hands into them, her entire body wobbling at the movement. He shouldn’t be here. He was supposed to be in his x-wing, leading the clean-up charge. The wookie had said he was.

“I’m coming in, all right?”

She heard the door open, felt the draft as steam escaped.

“Shavit.”

There was movement. A body, close. The smell of soap and sweat and _Luke_. A warm hand, gentle at her knee.

“Mara? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”  

The remembered taste of him flooded her mouth – sunshine and honey, and Mara gasped for air. She wanted to live. Wanted _Luke_ – his arms around her, his mouth on her - like last time. Wanted to be fucked into any flat surface he liked until everything else just _went away_ and there was only the two of them. She didn’t deserve it – didn’t deserve him, even – especially – like this. But -.

She dragged her head up. He was _so close,_ those impossibly blue eyes brimming with concern, full lips pressed together tightly. Then they parted, his tongue darting across the lower one as he looked for words. A different kind of heat poured through her, like a dam being opened. Mara didn’t think.

Lunging forward, she grasped his face between her palms and sealed her mouth to his.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is it?” He dipped his head, his breath warm on her cheek. “Tell me what’s going on.”  
> “I need you to – to kriff me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we get to the good stuff. : )

Luke’s lips parted willingly under her questing tongue. He tasted exactly the way the way she remembered, heady and sweet. Mara leaned into him, licking into his mouth urgently. The coarse fabric of his Jedi blacks was rough against her pearled nipples and she whined, pushing her body further into his, desperate for more. She was still dripping from the sani-steam, soaking his clothes everywhere they touched but she didn’t care – she wanted all his clothes off. Wanted skin and heat and _Luke_.

She felt Luke’s weight shift beneath her as he steadied them both. One hand cupped her cheek as he returned the kiss, angling his head just a little to deepen it. His other hand flattened against her hip, his long fingers skimming up her side.

Fire arced from the gouge at her ribs and she whimpered against the kiss. Her already-overloaded body screamed at the fresh assault and her legs buckled. Luke jerked his hand away and broke the kiss with a curse. The hand at her cheek dropped, his arm hooking around her, catching her against him as she toppled. 

“You’re hurt.” His voice was short, sharp. His fingertips felt around the edges of the wound with an experienced touch. “You should be in the med bunk.”

“No.” Mara gripped his tunic with both hands, pressed her forehead to his shoulder, her eyes squeezing shut. This was where the end started. “No. I -,” she shuddered, losing the words. He’d never touch her again, after this. Never dream of her, except in his nightmares.

“What is it?” He dipped his head, his breath warm on her cheek. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I need you to – to kriff me.” She pushed the words out with effort. “To come. Inside me. Soon.”

Mara felt Luke’s muscles lock at the specificity of it. Felt his sense probe at hers with rigidly controlled intent. The fury that rolled out of him a second later was like a pressure wave, compressing her chest, forcing the air from her lungs.

“They drugged you.”

“It’s my fault,” she mumbled, her lungs still tight. Wet, tangled strands of her hair stuck to his cheek as she shook her head against him. “I can explain. But I need -.” She cut off, gulping for air as he abruptly stood, scooping her into his arms and lifting her with him.

“It’s all right.”

Luke’s lips brushed her temple and the tenderness fractured something inside her. She didn’t deserve this. Any of it. Not after what she’d done. What she’d chosen.

“I’ll take care of you.”

His words made her suck in a breath. He didn’t remember. He’d said he didn’t. Still, her eyes darted to his as he set her down carefully on one of the bunks.

Luke’s smile was rueful when he stepped back, his hands moving to his belt.  “I hoped we’d get another chance, but not like this.”

“You said you forgot.”

“I did.” He pulled his tunic over his head, revealing the flat planes of his chest and stomach, spiderwebbed with faded scars. “And then I remembered.”

He hadn’t said. Mara’s stomach twisted. It was better that way. Better that he left it forgotten, so reality didn’t spoil the version of her he could treasure. Wasn’t it? It had to be.

“Hey.” Luke’s face scrunched as he stepped out of the last of his clothing.

_Fierfek_ \- her shields were shavit like this.

He crawled onto the bunk beside her. “What was that? What -?”

“Kriff me,” she interrupted, grabbing at his shoulders, falling back and tugging him over her. She couldn’t deal with that now. Later. When she was alone, when she’d survived and he’d gone –. “There isn’t _time_ , Luke.”

“I know.”

He stretched out over her, settling his lean frame between her legs as she spread them. Mara tried not to think about the pressure the position put on the line of fingertip bruises blooming above her knees. Focused instead on the solidness of Luke’s thighs against her own, the way the slickness there felt _right_ between them instead of obscene.  

He kissed her again, long and slow and searching. Mara let herself stop thinking and just _feel_. Luke braced himself up on one arm, keeping pressure off her injured side. His free hand stroked her, kneaded the knot at the back of her neck, the softness of her breast, and he kissed her, endlessly - insistently -until she was gasping. Then his mouth slid down, plying soft kisses across her jaw, her throat, her shoulder – like she was something wonderful and fascinating, like being here with her like this wasn’t a burden at all. He grazed his teeth over her collarbone and fireworks burst behind her eyes.

She was burning up, but she could no longer tell if it was the hormones or simple desire. His weight at her hips grounded her and she arched against him with a whine. He hummed, a low, pleased sound, and his hand moved lower, curved under her bottom. He adjusted, pushing his hips forward and she felt the press of his cock hard against the slick on her thigh. Mara ducked her head into his shoulder, tightened her arms around his neck, trying to mask her instinctive flinch.

Luke cursed against her skin – something Huttese and vile. “Whoever hurt you -,” he stopped, bit back the rest. Then, “I won’t.” He pressed his cheek to hers as he moved again, pressing gently at her entrance. “I won’t hurt you, Mara.”

“I know,” her voice was a rasp and she couldn’t breathe. Her fingers twisted in his hair. “I know.”

Then he was inside her, filling her, setting her nerves alight. Mara sagged with a moan, the tension passing as quickly as it had seized her. Luke worked the arm he was leaning on under her shoulder, the other diagonally under her back until he was holding her, shutting out everything else. There was only him around her, inside her. Even with her eyes closed, everything was bright.

Sensations came in waves, crashing over her – but Luke had promised to take care of her and he _was_ and so she just let them come. The salt on his skin against her lips, the rush at the base of her spine as he thrust at just the right angle, the ripple of corded muscle under her back as his whole body tightened.

“Mara.” Her name was a gasp on his lips, and then he was spilling inside her.

A shaky sigh escaped as coolness spread through her like a healing balm. Her scorched nerves and overwrought muscles loosened, puddling under her skin as her body registered the “off” trigger and the danger passed.

Still inside her, Luke rolled to his side and cuddled her to him. She should move, she thought. Not keep him here, like this. But exhaustion made her limbs and eyelids leaden, her brain muzzy. She drifted.

* * *

 

She startled awake to something cold against her side.

“Sorry.”

Mara squinted, blinked, trying to clear her vision. She was still in the bunk, Luke sitting beside her, leaning over her.  

“It’s just bacta.” He deftly sealed the edges of a bacta patch to her skin over the gouge. “You were bleeding.”

He was dressed – not his blacks. Worn, casual grey pants hung loose off his hips and a black undertunic clung to his trim torso.

“Your clothes weren’t salvageable, but Han found a couple things of Leia’s that should fit until we can rendezvous with Karrde.” Finished with the patch, he straightened. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Her voice was a croak.

He was silent a moment, his expression tightening. “If you want to do a blood test,” he said, keeping his voice carefully even, “it needs to be soon. I can bring the tester in here so you don’t have to move.”

“Blood test?” Mara pushed herself upright and scrubbed her face with a hand, her sluggish mind spinning uselessly. “For what?”

“The drug.” His right hand clenched against his knee, then forcibly relaxed. “There’s a lot of pleaz-mo variants – I’ve learned that since last time. They have different after-effects. We’ll have a better idea of what to expect – how to help you – if we can figure out exactly what it was.”

_Fierfek._ Mara swallowed against the pain in her chest, the ringing in her ears. “It wasn’t pleaz-mo.”

He frowned. “You’re sure?”

Mara pulled the sheets up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. It was futile and childish to cover herself now, but she felt sticky and cold from the inside out. Pins and needles prickled along her exposed skin and she stared at the far wall, let the numbness start to sink inward. This would hurt less if she couldn’t feel anything at all.

“Have you ever seen a sleeper agent?” she asked, her voice distant to her own ears. “They’re horrible. They don’t even know what they are. Isard always made sure they didn’t. But the science – the conditioning that makes them – you can do it to yourself, knowingly, and it will still work.”

Luke had gone preternaturally still beside her. He felt like a storm cloud on the horizon. Dark and bristling with the first beginnings of lightning. He deserved to be angry, finding out after the fact what he’d fucked in goodwill.

“The first Moff I gave myself to on my Master’s orders put me in the med center. So did the second.” Mara’s fingers twisted in the sheets. “The Emperor was angry that I’d lost time – he’d wanted to reassign me.”

Goosebumps blossomed on her skin as the temperature seemed to drop again. She imagined frost crawling across the walls.

“His anger was -.” She paused, glanced at his arms, where the faded traces of permanent Force lightning scars kissed his tanned skin. Decided details weren’t necessary. “I didn’t want to face it again. So I slave-moded a little section of my brain. Set a trigger for natural hormones and muscle relaxers, so I could make myself – so there was less damage.” She shook her head, fully numb now. “There weren’t any non-humans in Court, so I – I didn’t think to include non-human fluids in the shut-off trigger. Stupid.”

“They raped you. In captivity.” Luke voice was like gravel, and she was hallucinating or there really was a bloom of frost spiraling across the wall now, crystalline and ragged.

She turned her head slowly, the hollowness between her ribs her making her feel flaky and fragile – as if she might shatter and float away in a cloud of powdery dust if she moved too suddenly.

“It isn’t rape if you let them.” She found his eyes, let her gaze drift over his lips. They’d hold nothing but curses for her now. “A Weequay,” because why shouldn’t he know, now that there was nothing left to lose? “He had code cylinders and weapons and Leia was sick. We had to get out.” She felt her lips twist. “I didn’t mean for you to have to -,” she gestured, listlessly. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t -.” Luke stopped. “Tell me,” he said, after a very long pause, his voice lower and more cautious than she’d ever heard it, “that you know that isn’t true.”

She cocked her head, tried to ignore the way it made the room spin. “That I’m sorry?”

His jaw worked and, out of the corner of her eye, Mara watched the frost rocket its icy tendrils straight to the ceiling. “Coerced compliance,” he ground each word, “is still rape, Mara.”

She stared at him blankly, aware that she’d started shivering at some point. “I let them,” she repeated, turning the words over, trying to figure out if she’d said them wrong, somehow, that he didn’t understand. She flicked her fingers toward her head. “I chose – I _programmed_ myself so I could -.”

_“Yih few_ _wei see wa veatiuena.”_  Luke leaned forward, had his hands framing her face – and then froze, an inch from touching her. “Mara,” he said, very deliberately, “may I touch you?”

She didn’t understand why he was asking. Her head throbbed and her body ached, and she was too cold to think. Her body must be pulling every ounce of energy to purge her system of the biochemical overload. She needed – he’d asked her a question, she remembered.

“Yes.” It was barely a whisper, but apparently enough because his hands cradled her face.

“This is not your fault. What you did to survive – it doesn’t make you -.” His expression twisted, grief and rage crackling over them both in the Force. It stung – or maybe that was just her. Her vision blurred.

“Damaged,” she supplied, faintly. “It’s – it’s okay.” Her mouth opened, but she didn’t think she meant to say anything else. It didn’t sound like her voice, what came out. It sounded like someone else, sad and far away. “I know. You don’t – you don’t have to dream about me anymore.”

“Sweetheart.” Luke pressed a kiss to her forehead. “If you weren’t with Lando -.”

“Lando?” she repeated, lost. Had they been talking about Lando?

“Am I not supposed to know? Or – did you break up? I haven’t spoken to him in a while but -.”

“I – need to not… sit anymore.” Had she said that? Or just thought it? She was trying to pay attention – she _was_.

Luke’s arms were around her, then, and she was falling – no, he was lowering her, bundling her under the blankets. After a second’s hesitation, he slid under them with her and lay on his side, facing her.

“Are you seeing Lando?” he asked, the words piercing the fog that pressed in around her. “Because if you’re happy, I won’t – that’s why I didn’t say anything, when I remembered.”

Why would she be seeing Lando? Mara struggled to think. _Oh._ “Mission,” she mumbled. “Not – not anything. We didn’t – .” She groped for him, her hand clumsy and fumbling.

Luke needed no more encouragement – he scooted toward her, tucking one arm under her head, easing her battered body against his with the other. “Rest, Sweetheart,” his lips grazed her hair.

Mara nosed into his shoulder, let herself sink into the solid heat of him, the sweetness of his sense wrapping around hers, just as his body had.

“When you wake up,” Luke tucked the blankets more snugly around them, cocooning them away from the world. “We’re going to talk.” He nuzzled her with a sigh. “Because if you’re not with Lando, I want more than dreams with you, Mara Jade.”

“Mhmhm.”

It was like being numb, she thought fuzzily, only better, because the good feelings stayed. She’d lost the thread of what Luke was saying, would lose every thread in a few more seconds, but he held her like she was precious, and that alone was more than she’d have ever dared hope for. With a sigh, she let Luke and unconsciousness claim her.


End file.
